


All God's Children They Gotta Die

by The_Alias (Artemis_Day)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, Darcylvania event, Gen, Halloween, Mild Gore, Zombies, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/The_Alias
Summary: Darcy doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know how she got here. She doesn't know where she's going. All she knows is she has to eat.
Relationships: Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34
Collections: The Monster Mash





	All God's Children They Gotta Die

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Darcyverse discord server's Darcylvania Event. 
> 
> Also:  
> Darcy Lewis Bingo Square C4: Rain
> 
> Please be aware of the content warning!

There was light in her face.

It was blinding her. She couldn’t open her eyes wider than a crack. When she tried, razor blades went through her pupils. If she had to guess, it was the sun, though there was no telling what time of day it was. 

When was the last time she’d slept anyway? Had to be at least noon or maybe one in the afternoon. It had been sunny then. Now it was cloudy. The sun stuck out between a gap in the clouds but soon disappeared again. Now she could finally open her eyes.

She was on the road. Which one? She didn’t know. She knew a few things, like that her name was Darcy and she loved her ipod. Most everything else was swimming in a whirlpool inside her head, too fast and jumbled for her to grab hold of. That included where she was. If she had to guess, it was the desert. Or maybe a beach.

There was sand everywhere, but no water. So the first one, then.

Darcy was standing, her feet flat on the gravel. Thick shoes protected her feet. One of the laces was loose, but not all the way out. She tried to walk and her vision swam. She was spinning and about to fall when she forced her back straight (or was it already) and stood still until the dizziness faded.

Vaguely, she was aware of her body. A mild, but enduring sensation of nausea. A slight ache in her skull. Her hands were tingling. There was pressure in her chest like a balloon about to pop. Her legs were stiff, but she was pretty sure she could move them if she tried. After giving herself time to rest, she ventured another step and managed to shuffle forward an inch.

She stared straight ahead at the road, her eyes never straying. Her throat was dry, so when she tried to speak, all that came out was a raspy groan. A salty smell in the distance made her think of soft pretzels dipped in cheese at the state fair, and suddenly, she was starving.

Another moan, this one of hunger as she stumbled down the road. It was slow going. She didn’t dare try picking up the pace, or else she might throw up or lose her balance and hit her head. As she walked, she tried to remember how she ended up out here. There were a few abandoned cars on the side of the road. Most were scratched or dented in some way. A few looked like they’d crashed into each other. Others had the doors ripped off.

Maybe she’d been in a car before...

Yes, that was it! She’d been with Jane. They were going somewhere. Like the hardware store or the dance club. Darcy always thought Jane would like clubs. They’d left early for some reason and Darcy forgot her phone. 

Right! She’d been mad about it, too. It was all coming back to her now.

A droplet of rain hit her head, but she didn’t look up. It was just a light drizzle. Nothing to worry about. The sun had come back once, blinding her for a moment, before it ducked back out of sight, leaving behind the comfortable grey. A few more drops hit her, and somewhere far away, lightning flashed.

A fresh wave of pain went through her head, or so Darcy assumed. Her whole body felt like lead and it was hard to say where any aches or pains were coming from. Instead of dwelling on it, she kept walking. That seemed to be the best thing to do right now. Following the salty scent gave her something to focus on. Her mind didn’t linger on the things she didn’t know. Occasionally, little things would come to her, like the last song she listened to (The Curse of Millhaven by Nick Cave) or what book she’d been reading (The Stand). None of it told her anything about how she got here, but it was a start.

The rain picked up. Tiny water droplets became icy hail slamming into the cars and cracking the glass. The farther she walked, the harder it fell, and the harsher the wind in her face blew. Bits of ice landed in her hair, freezing the strands together. Darcy thought about wiping it away, but her arms were so heavy, she could barely lift a single finger.

It was hard to see through the downpour, but she was coming upon a town. Or at least a few buildings. The water had washed away some of the smell, but enough remained for Darcy to follow. Over time, the scent had changed, taking on a slightly metal quality which nevertheless made her mouth water. Whatever was cooking, it had to be delicious. Like her mother’s famous bacon-wrapped meatloaf, but a thousand times better.

Darcy let her feet guide her forward, they seemed to know where to go. Only once did she slow down, when her foot caught on something soft. She looked down to see a children’s toy, caked with dirt and drenched with rainwater. It was a neon green bear, like one of those Care Bears maybe. It’s stitched on smile was marred by red streaks running along the side of the head. A leg was missing and white stuffing poked out. Two feet away was another car, overturned with all the windows shattered. A faint smell came from inside, so good and so salty. Darcy was tempted to check, but the trail she’d been following was stronger, and it took her back down the path.

An amount of time passed which Darcy couldn’t quantify. She guessed an hour and left it at that. The rain was dying down and she could see a rundown gas station through the haze. There was no sign, just a sad white stump full of dead wires and weeds. There were three pumps, none of which looked like they’d been used in fifty years. Two of them didn’t even have hoses. At the third one, a truck was parked, black and boxy with a flat tire on one side. The license plate was just a bunch of squiggles resembling numbers. Two of the windows were cracked and it was empty inside. There was no smell. 

This was Jane’s truck. The new one she bought a few months ago, before…

Before something.

Something had happened recently. Something big. Something...

Ah well, she’d think about it after she ate.

The smell was so much clearer here. It was coming from the convenience store. A single light shined through the window and Darcy winced. When she got in there, the first thing she’d do was shut it off. Light wasn’t good for a migraine, and she’d decided that had to be what was wrong with her. Her Aunt Margie had been a lifelong migraine sufferer, and whenever she had a flareup, she was more dead than alive. Hopefully, they’d have some painkillers in there and maybe even an ice pack. Darcy would look for one after she’d eaten.

It was imperative that she eat.

Stepping over a human-sized sack in the doorway, Darcy entered the store. It was as old and deserted as the gas pumps. The shelves had been picked clean save for a few empty boxes and bottles. The floor was a mess of rotting food and dry red stains. The refrigerators were dark with nothing inside. So much for that ice pack. At least now she knew where that smell was coming from. It was to her left, all the way in the back.

Where that light was coming from.

Killing two birds with one stone, then.

Darcy moaned and shuffled forward. God, she was tired. Almost as much as she was hungry. After she ate, she should take a nap for a few hours. Maybe that would clear her head and help her figure out where she was. Hopefully, there was something in there she could use as a pillow. Elevating her head would help relieve the pain. No pain equals no dizziness equals no forgetting, right? That made sense. 

There were a few things in her way, but Darcy didn’t have the strength to move around them. Instead, she crushed every obstacle underfoot. A box of teabags, a broken lollipop, a hunk of skull-shaped Halloween candy which looked a little too big to be edible. Soon she reached the swinging door and forced her numb arm up. 

Inside was a freezer. The floors were tiled and the walls and the walls painted a dull gray. The accursed light hung from the ceiling just out of reach. If she stood on a chair, maybe she could get it to, but there didn’t appear to be one in here. It was chilly, but not unbearable. Someone could easily hide in here with whatever food they were hoarding, assuming they were mean and jerkish enough not to share. A shadow on the wall hovered for a moment before disappearing. It was shaped like a person, and the delectable scent of food wafted from their corner. Even in her drowsy state, Darcy honed in on it quickly. With less difficulty than before, she turned and hobbled forward.

“Hello? Sorry to bother you, but I’m lost and I’m hungry. Can I have some of your food?”

That’s what Darcy wanted to say at least. What came out was another groan. 

The shadow leaped out into the open. Now it was a person, short and thin with limp brown hair and wild brown eyes. In her hands was not meatloaf, nor was it candy or tea. It was a gun.

Aimed at her.

And behind it…

“Jane!” Darcy cried. “Where have you been? Where are we?”

But no. Just more groaning.

The fear in Jane’s eyes dissipated, washed away like sand on the beach. As they widened, her stance weakened, and the gun barrel slipped from Darcy’s head to her chest. 

“No…” she whispered. Her words sounded exactly like they should’ve. “Darcy… no…”

She was crying. Big, wet tears flooding down her face. Her arms bent as she doubled over, holding the gun by a finger. Darcy was overwhelmed with concern for her friend and stepped closer. Closer...

... as that concern became need.

There was no food in Jane’s hands. None behind her or next to her. It had to be on her, then. She was hiding it. It was in her pocket or under her shirt. If Darcy could just get to it…

“I’m hungry,” she didn’t say. “So hungry, Jane…”

“No…” Jane said again, but it didn’t seem like she’d heard Darcy at all.

“Hungry…” Darcy came closer. It was everywhere, undeniable and irresistible. That smell. That need. “Hungry…”

There was something else. Something just over Jane’s head. A rectangular mirror mounted on the ceiling. The perspective was wonky like a funhouse mirror. Probably an old security measure from a time before cameras. The reflected freezer was no prettier than the real one. Same tiles. Same walls. Same swinging door covered in fingerprints. What was different was the woman staring back at her. The way she stood as if she’d never walked on two legs before. The mess of knotted hair clumped under the remains of a beanie. The blood trailing down her cheeks from a wound in her forehead. The way her nose twisted and her mouth hung agape. The dullness of her eyes and the sickly pallor of her skin. God, she was grayer than those walls. And look at her hands! Half the nails were gone and the thumb was bent all the way back. Her clothes were torn and bloody, her legs scratched to bits, and to top it all off, she was soaking wet...

Darcy stared for a long time at the reflection, knowing deep down what it was, but unable to think it. Every inch of her that wasn’t pain was numb, and then everything was numb. She raised her hands without trouble, taking in the broken skin and mutilated thumb. Something had grabbed her there. It pulled her screaming from the van and then-

And then…

She was numb. Numb and dizzy. So numb, and so dizzy, and so hungry.

Hunger.

Light.

Need.

That was all there was anymore. 

Until Jane dried her tears and lifted the gun. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Darcy wanted to say. “It’s not your fault, Jane.”

But of course, it was all just moans.

With the crack of a bullet came darkness. From the darkness came light.

This time, it didn’t hurt.


End file.
